


Some Rest

by Amalveor



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e20 Death Benefit, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amalveor/pseuds/Amalveor
Summary: A missing scene set during Death Benefit, when Reese and Finch are staying in a hotel in DC.During a break from tailing their latest number, Congressman McCourt, Reese takes some time to make sure Finch gets some rest.





	Some Rest

"Is this really necessary?"

Having decided there was nothing else that could be done that evening to protect the congressman, Reese had returned to the hotel room, to sit and watch Harold work. Harold had suggested that he might like to try the television, or even a book, but it was mostly out of habit. He had long ago grown used to the intense quiet that accompanied sitting in a room with John Reese. What with Decima, the looming threat of Samaritan, and now the new burden of the relevant numbers, there hadn’t been a lot of time in recent days for those quiet moments in the library- John bringing tea and sitting with Bear while Harold completed some programming work for one of his aliases. While this wasn’t quite the same, it was similarly comforting, and conducive to work. He had grown so used to John’s presence it was like being alone, but with the added benefit of someone to listen to the thoughts he spoke aloud.

After hours of looking into secret service identity checks Harold had to admit it just wouldn’t be possible to get John assigned to the congressman’s protection by the morning. With additional time he certainly could, but there wasn’t any. The addition of secret service protection was still a positive one, however. It gave them another way in- someone who would be with the congressman at all times, someone they could bluejack or bug. And the agent who was set to arrive in the morning didn’t exactly seem the most impressive the service had to offer.

John had mulled this information over for a few seconds, nodded and then suggested they get some sleep. When Harold had provided no immediate response, Reese had reached across the table and pulled the laptop from his hands.

“I mean it,” he'd said, with one of those sinister smiles he so often gave when he was threatening someone, and enjoying it. “You’re exhausted, Finch. Now’s not the time to be operating at 50%."

He must have been right because rather than argue, Harold picked himself up and allowed John to usher him into the bedroom. John now stood in the doorway, propped against the frame, giving him a firm, impatient stare.

"Are you going to tuck me in as well?” Harold asked, dryly.

"I thought tying you down might be more effective."

"It's a good thing I'm familiar with your idea of humor, Mr Reese." He pulled a hanger from the closet and slipped his suit jacket carefully on it before replacing it.

"I'm not joking."

It almost certainly was a joke, but said with such a straight face that, if he hadn't known the other man as well as he did, he might have believed him to be serious.

"Is this the reason you decided to leave the congressman for the evening? So you could make sure I'm sleeping?"

John shrugged. "This is more important."

Harold sighed; slipped his tie free from its knot. "Nothing is more important than keeping our number alive, John. If we lose focus on that-"

“No.” He stepped further into the room and while it seemed to be more for emphasis than intimidation, the difference was small. "Keeping you alive is more important."

“Mr Reese-"

"Don't argue with me, Harold. I know you want to help people but the most important thing for McCourt is you're alert enough to save him."

Finch gave him his steeliest glare. “As much as I appreciate your concern, you should know that being unconscious is the exact opposite of being alert. Our most pressing matter should be to get eyes and ears on the congressman."

“And we will, Finch. We'll get to him through the secret service detail. I'll handle it."

It wasn’t that he couldn’t argue the point if he’d wanted to, but Harold really didn’t have the energy to deal with the current situation and argue with John. One was quite enough. He started on the buttons of his shirt and waited a beat, but John seemed in no hurry to let him undress in peace. After a pause, he simply got on with it until he was stood only in his undershirt and boxers. John nodded and looked pointedly at the bed.

"Am I permitted to visit the bathroom?” Harold asked, amusement winning out over annoyance.

"Pretty sure I can allow that."

When he returned it was to find Reese half undressed, folding his clothes over the back of a chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed.” He pulled his shirt off over his head and Harold winced as he watched the fabric stretch.

"While I appreciate your dedication to getting me my recommended eight hours, Mr Reese, I booked a two bedroom suite for a reason. I’m sure you'll find the room next door very comfortable."

He took a hanger from the closet and motioned for John to pass him the clothes.

"I'm sure I would but from there I can't check whether you're sleeping. And your twice as rested when Bear stays with you. Think of me as your upgraded guard dog."

Harold brushed the fabric flat with a hand and hung the suit next to his own. "Bear isn't allowed on the furniture.”

When he turned back around, John was still standing their, waiting. "Left or right, Harold?"

He almost smiled, then raised his eyebrows. John was completely serious. He was undeniably exhausted though, and protesting seemed far too difficult. "I sleep on my right side,” he said, and moved past John to get into bed. “And I’m using three of the pillows."

“Fine by me"

John clicked off the light and, unlike Harold, spent almost no time moving to get comfortable. He simply lay there, quiet and still.

Despite himself, it was strangely soothing to hear John’s breathing, to know that he was just there. He felt almost... safe. He took in a breath to say something, realised he wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and let it out again. Beside him, John moved, just slightly, and Harold felt the weight of his hand come down to squeeze his shoulder through the covers.

“We’ll figure it all out in the morning, Harold,” he said softly. “Get some rest."

Quite what it was specifically that they were going to deal with in the morning, Harold was too tired to ask. He closed his eyes instead, and let the world slip away from him in sleep.


End file.
